Quote of the Day

"Things always seems impossible until they are done."

Nelson Mandela

Bits and Bites from my weekend

We (theGirls Club dj's) are going to be on the radio!! It's college radio but I think college radio is the best. All the other radio stations in Edmonton induce visions of suicide; but that's just my opinion.


There are literally THOUSANDS of vinyls records and cds. And the control room is in an old bank vault...oh the ruckus we are going to cause!


My friend Semi launched his design firm HAUSofTRIANGLES and we had the honor of dj'ing the party, we were rusty; but Semi's art installation was bang on! The picture of the female is supposed to symbolize the rape of Alberta. I love art!


Sunday afternoon Matcha, from Credo coffee. I don't drink coffee anymore but if I did, I would buy it from there.


Dinner was spaghetti with tomato sauce. I got the recipe from the smitten kitchen; it seemed too easy to actually be delicious, but sometimes less really is more. I also made zucchini bread and it was divine!

And lastly, I watched the Grammy's; the highlight was Elton and Gaga; OMG yes!

365/ twenty-five

I miss this.

I am through with winter. I found it beautiful when I had Christmas to look forward to; now it's getting on my nerves. I am cold, my skin is pale (as black girls go)and I am low on vitamin D.

I understand why bears hibernate; this shit sucks.

Quote of the Day

"Nothing will work unless you do."

Maya Angelou

28

So I have made the decision to get another job. Although I am getting my shit together in almost every other area of my life, working out, eating right and such; I am still super broke. Don’t get me wrong I am not quitting the magazine sales job, as I have committed that I will give it a solid go; I am simply finding something else to substitute my income. With so many expenses on the horizon; Coachella is coming up, we need a website for our catering company and my wish list of clothes is growing by the minute, I am beginning to feel the pressure. This week was fucking a hard one, the hardest in while, my finances were as tight as a nun’s cunt (super tight); so I made the decision to go ahead and look for number 28.


You know when magazines compile a list of the “Best 30 under 30” of super twenty-something achievers? Well I am going to compile a list: Bianca’s 30(jobs) under 30. At the rate that I am going I will be at 30 by 26. I haven’t even put writer on the list of jobs, which would make it 29, but who’s counting? It’s funny, just this past December, my friend Travis was home for Christmas and we were talking about work and I said very confidently, that I would never apply for another job. I was blinded by the busy catering season and naïve to the fact that what goes up must come down; and, down came the number of catering jobs. I know that a slump is typical in January but this week I was hurting.


This morning I woke up, baked delicious bread and prowled the online community for some gainful employment. And as much as I would love to find a writing job; there aren’t any. There was one posting and it was for a political contributor; but all I know about politics is I am liberal and Stephen Harper is a fucking asshole with a small penis (as that would explain everything), so I passed on that one. I could go back into serving, but in my old age I have gotten way more brassy and I can just see myself losing it on some dickhead and his wife; so serving would be my last resort. I could do retail, but standing around, fluffing shit and telling people “no those jeans don’t make you look fat” and restraining myself from saying “ the jeans are fine, it’s your ass that looks fat” might be more of a challenge than I am willing to take on. If all else fails I could turn tricks, because the cash is just so damn good but there is that whole dignity thing I would have to wrestle with. So to say I am picky would be gross understatement.


I have given myself until the end of next week to find something. With my glowing personality and ability to bullshit with the best of them I feel that timeline is more than doable. I have always been a master in the art of the interview; I can swindle anyone into hiring me. I was a weight management counselor for fuck sakes and I was also 40lbs overweight at the time; just to give you an idea of my skills. You don’t amass 28 jobs at 24 years of age by being shitty at interviews.


So it looks like the book that I am writing, about my many adventures in the land of the employed, is about to get one more chapter.

Postponed

Yesterday I went to court, for what I STILL have no idea.

The day started out relatively well, I found a great parking spot, at meter and as I looked around at all the other cars I noticed they didn’t seem to put any money in their meters; so neither did I.

I got to the court house and went through security as instructed. I beeped when I walked through the security thing (I don’t even know what they are called); and the very butch lesbian security guard took what seemed forever to frisk me and in my opinion she was getting a little too friendly around my woman parts. I wanted to look at her and say “look lady there isn’t anything in my vagina for you, so move the fuck on”, I refrained because she looked like she would have enjoyed taking me down.

I found the court room, went in, and as expected it was an Edmonton style courtroom; so much for my “Law and Order” fantasies. The judge calls all the new people to the front of the room to check in. She looks at me and says into the microphone that I need to remove my hat. I am completely fine with her telling me to remove my hat, but the microphone was unnecessary as this room was the size of a bachelor apartment. So I apologize to her with every intention of removing my hat and the lawyer starts talking to me so I start listening to him; and, she says AGAIN even louder in the fucking microphone to remove my hat. Like lady don’t fucking get on my case because you were born with that face. I know life must be rough when you have no idea how to apply makeup and your hair is the color of dirty dishwater, but hold the fuck on, someone is talking to me.

I knew I should have brushed my hair yesterday morning. As I was putting on my hat, I thought maybe I should brush it quickly, but I left it out of laziness; and I seriously regretted it. My hair was fucking busted, nasty, hasn’t been combed since Tuesday gross; and of course there was a tasty looking man in the room; but in all reality he was probably a criminal so I wasn’t too torn up.

So now I am standing in the front of the room, looking like a comb has never touched my hair; and, the lawyers inform me that this case has been postponed. They thought they called me, but it turns out they each thought the other had informed me of this detail; stupid fucks. So I rolled out of bed, at an hour that I am not really comfortable with, risked getting yet another ticket, almost committed a felony by beating shit out of a too friendly security guard and a bitch judge; only to have to come back again. STUPID FUCKS. They tell me that I have a choice, I can wait while they get through the other cases and then set a new trial date or they can call me with the new date. I said call, but to make sure that they actually DO call this time; I also said that I am unavailable for the month of April as that is Coachella season. I put on my hat, lingered long enough just to get the judges attention, put on my best strut and walked out. FUCK YOU BITCH the microphone was unnecessary.

Looks like you will all have to wait to get the full story and I will have to wait to see WHY THE HELL I HAVE TO KEEP GOING TO COURT?

365/ twenty-four

I went to Vancouver for Christmas and I took one day for myself (I really needed it); I took that day to walk around some beautiful neighborhoods.

This picture makes me want to go back.

Quote of the Day

Doing the best at this moment puts you in the best place for the next moment.

Oprah Winfrey

Court Day

Yesterdays post was funny, witty and well written (if I may say so myself). But, how the hell do I follow that? I could write about my other favorite word, CUNT, but that word isn’t quite as well received as Fuck; and, although I love to court controversy, I think CUNT might be a little too far for the squeamish readers. Talk of CUNTS and all their many functions (I am talking about vaginas and assholes) could get really dirty and I think it may be too soon in my writing career to go there. So what the hell do I write about today? Yesterday was rather uneventful, today is surely to be interesting as I am finally going to court, for what? I have no idea. I could have called the city to find out, but I like surprises.

All I know about today is that I have to go downtown and pay an astronomical amount to park, so that I can play witness to someone or something. What does someone wear to court? I want to look official but I have no idea what my role is. Will I be in a “Law and Order” styles court room or a real Edmonton styles set up. I hope it’s the former, then I can get lost in fantasy while I sit there and act like I give a shit; which I don’t. Just for fun I should yell out "OBJECTION" and blame it on my imaginary tourettes.

I am all for the “justice for all mankind” business, but only if it doesn’t interfere with my life and the goings on of my daily existence. I know that if I was on the other end, I would be grateful for anyone who could contribute to my cause but I wasn’t asked so I can be as salty about the situation as I want. Because even if I didn’t want to show, I have to; they come hunting for you if you don’t and I’m trying to keep a low profile as I have yet to pay those tickets. Next week, I promise.

I am dreading this whole ordeal, I have so many questions. Do I have to put my hand on a bible to swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? **On a side note, I think it’s funny that they whip out the bible and expect people to tell the truth. I grew up religious and blah blah blah, but the bible is just a book. For someone who is already a liar, they might as well be sworn in on a Dr.Seuss book.** A question I have for them is do you really want me there? I can barely remember what happened last week, forget about last august. But alas the law is forcing me to go and play law abiding citizen for the day.

It wouldn’t be half bad, if I could show up at 1 in the afternoon or something; but, NO. 9:30 am is the call time, it’s as if they don’t know what time” the View” is on. Idiots.

I had better get ready, pack my snacks and get my ass to the court house….this could be a very long day.

365/ twenty-three

This is my friend Caitlin, she is a photographer. We had a photo shoot and it was fun, really fun. She used to be my boss; and now that she isn't, our friendship is WAY better.

I am certain she will attest to that too.

Quote of the Day

"Don’t limit investing to the financial world. Invest something of yourself, and you will be richly rewarded."

Charles Schwab

365/ twenty-two

I fucking love Pho, it's filling and delicious; and, all for $6.95!

Fuck

I am sure you have all noticed I have quite a fondness for the word “Fuck”; I simply love the word. Since I first uttered those words from my lips I was hooked. I was the kid who taught other kids how to swear; bitch was good one and so was shit but FUCK was the real deal. There was no other word to pretend you said, so if a teacher heard you say it, you were, for lack of a better word, fucked. Shit could be ship and a Bitch is a female dog; but, fuck was for the hardcore kids who just didn’t give a what? Fuck.

Fuck is perfect. It is like the chicken of vocabulary, it can be so many things. Fuck has become more than profanity, it’s an adjective for fuck sakes. When something is really amazing, it is FUCKING amazing; or when something really sucks, it FUCKING sucks. If something is green its green, but the most vibrant blinding green is FUCKING green. The word “Fuck” just drives it home.

I read the other day that saying or yelling “Fuck” in fact does help when something painful happens, it helps with pain management. It’s all in the mind of course, but it’s all about the mind; my new motto (as of right now, so as to prove my point) is if you can fuck my mind you can fuck my body. And you know it’s true, the first thing that happens when you stub your toe, you always, without fail, yell “fuck “(or fudge for the Mormons) as loud as you can; you can admit, we are all friends here. The more children around to hear the better; especially the “repeat everything that is said” age group, there is nothing cuter than someone else’s child running around saying fuck, fuck, fuck.

And let us not forget the best connotation of fuck there is; and, that is fucking itself. Life is made infinitely better by fucking; bad mood, get fucked and bad mood gone. Headache, get fucked, headache gone. Literally and figuratively, FUCK is perfect. Except of course when I get “fucked” over, I got seriously fucked over this summer and that shit sucked; but, I got laid shortly after it happened and you know what? Bad mood gone!

Now I am not saying this to be crass or controversial; this is simply my homage to a word that I hold so very dear; a word that has been there since I was a terrorist on the playgrounds, in times of pain and in times of extreme pleasure.

I love you so fucking much, Fuck; you are the best FUCKING word ever.

Quote of the Day

"Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new."

Albert Einstein

Quote of the Day

"Success is simply a matter of luck. Ask any failure."

Earl Nightingale

Confession Monday

I was extremely well behaved this weekend; the only alcohol to slip past these lips was 1 (yes just 1) glass of wine. So I had to rack my brain for todays confession; but being that I am no angel, it took all of 5 minutes to come up with something.


First let me start by saying that I do like kids, just not the snot nosed, dirty cheek variety; you know the ones I am referring to, the ones only a mother can love. I was one of those kids, so I feel like I earned the right to say that; and I figure that if your mother loves you, then it shouldn’t be a problem that I cannot stand you, but that’s an aside.


We have all been there, in a mall or somewhere mothers and gremlins convene and there is one little tyrant who needs to be put right in their place. Unfortunately for us, the mother or caregiver tends to be too light-handed (in my experience a heavy hand works well for asshole children). For instance, my young cousin had his 6th birthday at a McDonalds play place, also known as hell; and there was this one shithead who was being outrageous. He was spitting down on people eating, biting kids and swearing. His mother who was about 23 years old and hung over (I am sure) was doing nothing to stop her little bastard ( true story, the dad was long gone, which explains the behavior but that is beyond the point). I tried to stop him from outside the Jungle Jim but he told me to “fuck off” and in that moment I knew that I was going to be the person to teach this little asshole a lesson. I climbed into the play place, I squeezed my overgrown (and somewhat overweight) body through the tubes and found the little fuck and grabbed him by the arm to pull him out. And can you believe that he tried to bite me; so I pinched him, yes, I pinched him HARD (I would have punched him but he seemed like he might bruise easy) and then I told him that if he told anyone what I did, I would tell everyone he was lying and he would get in trouble from all the adults; and I proceeded to lead him out of the tubes; I think I threw in somewhere that he had better stop acting like an asshole or I was going to be meaner.


I confess it was not the nicest thing to do; but that little shithead was ruining my cousin’s party; besides he didn’t say a word for the rest of the event, so it worked.


Abuse? Maybe. Party control? Yes.

It feels good to get that off my chest...

365/ twenty + twenty-one

Clementines everywhere!

365/ nineteen

Lunch!

365/ eighteen

Pretty.

The Dream

Yesterday I was in a “woe is me” kind of mood; it was just one of those days. The usual things were getting me down; I have no money, this time I really have no money. Yes there is cash in my wallet but it is spoken for; and, I cannot get into my apartment without my mother physically letting me in. Did I mention that I am broke?

Still wallowing I made my way down to the parking garage, the elevator stopped at the floor after mine and the lovely janitor began to load all his cleaning gear in. I see him every now and again and he is always very friendly; I would even go as far as to describe him as smiley. This time he seemed especially happy to see me, as he had loads of shit and my help was a nice gesture. Truth be told I did it for my own karma, but that is beyond the point. We finally got everything loaded and the man wipes the sweat from his brow and looks me in the eye and says “life in Canada for a newcomer is hard”, the elevator “bings” and he smiled and got out. For some reason that really got to me. Here is this man, struggling to make ends meet and yet he is still smiling.

I felt sad for him and for every newcomer to Canada. My parents are immigrants; hell, my grandmother slept in a subway station in her first years in Canada. It’s hard grinding coming to a new country and attempting to “make it”. My grandparents left their homeland, their friends and their children (for the first few years), all so that we (my parents, cousins and I) could have this life; all for the dream. And here I am able bodied, living at home essentially rent free; and I am bitching about FOB’s when there are people who struggle tooth and nail just to live their dream, lugging brooms and vacuums in and out of elevators for $8 dollars an hour.

This man was probably looking at me thinking that I had it all, and all I manage to do is bitch. Yes some of my bitching is of the hilarious observational nature (and surely will not stop any time soon) but this man jolted me out of my shitty mood. How can I be in a shitty mood, when my biggest worry is putting gas in my vehicle and making sure I buy advance tickets to Avatar?...Which by the way is STILL showing sold out shows.

Today my mood is much better, because I really have nothing to be upset about.

Quote of the Day

"Don't quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion."

Muhammad Ali

Vent

Disclaimer…this is a venting post, so Mother, if you are reading, STOP, this IS NOT for you. This is a vent, and you are implicated. I will not be held responsible for your feelings after reading this…I love you, I am just frustrated…




Today I am thinking I DO NOT WANT TO LIVE AT HOME. Obviously I have to, as I am incapable of supporting myself at this point. And, as much as I love my mother and am eternally grateful to her for graciously allowing me to live here; this shit sucks. I am a 24, almost 25, year old woman and I am roommates with my mother, FUUUUCCCCCKKKKKK. Her choices (which changed everything, the whole course of my year 2009) and my poor choices (the result of her choices) made this situation come about; but, FUCK this sucks.

Last night I was forced to come home at 11 pm (earlier than I had planned) because my mother had to come down and let me in the building. See I lost my FOB (device that lets one into the building) and now she has to let me in EVERY SINGLE FUCKING TIME I come home; like, my lifestyle is NOT conducive to that. I have been known to stay out for a full 48 hours or stroll in at 6am. I know that I lost the FOB but I am still fucking pissed about this situation and maintain that I reserve that right. And the attitude I faced when I came home early (her mind thinks it’s late) makes this even more unbearable. I am at a loss. I CANNOT do this for another 3 months, I will lose my mind and my shit on her; and, judging by past experiences, it is not pretty.

I was on a roll this week, things were going great, I was feeling great, and then all this “get into the building” business, was sprung on me. I think I might live in my car; at least my car doesn’t have an unwritten curfew. I realize this is obviously a trivial grievance re HAITI, people dying in the street etc.; but it is my life and I have every right to be ruffled.

I have said this before and it has been a while since I have openly uttered it since; but, FML. I want to scream it from the rooftops FuckMyLife, FuckMyLife, FUCKMYLIFE.

This weekend should be very interesting.

note: I realize that my mother is likely frustrated with this situation too...but this is my blog...

365/ seventeen

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today; and, the result is a poop mood.

I believe that a bowl of pasta cures all. So pasta for breakfast it is!

Quote of the Day

We all have two choices;We can make a living or we can design a life.

Jim Rohn

Free Day

Every time I have woken up and uttered to myself “I have nothing to write about today”, something really crazy ends up going down. Either the cops are looking for me or I am pissing red. Today I woke up and said nothing of the sort.

Truth be told I was woken up by the tenants above me UFC fighting or something of that nature; whatever it was, it was loud. I wouldn’t call them repeat offenders but in the last week or so, they have been rowdy. I have wondered on a number of occasions, whether someone was getting abused up there. Lord knows I hope that isn’t the case, but it was loud.
This morning since I had nothing to write, I had time tolie there and dream of all the ways, I would go up there and make them wish they had never made a peep and woken me from my slumber. I’m like a bear, hibernation is when I sleep; nobody wants to wake a bear out of its hibernation…they get pissed. So this morning like a crazy woman, ornery and aged 85, I took the broom and began slamming it in the direction of the roof. My hair being the catchall that it tends to be caught all the lovely bits from the popcorn ceiling; which Americans seem to hate, judging by House Hunters, but its essential the name of the game in Canada. I haven’t been to a house without it. Anyways I digress; I had tons of shit in my hair.

Alas my bark is generally bigger than my bite and that’s as far as the dispute went. I needed to get up anyways.

So as you can see nothing to write about today.

365/ sixteen

I love Leva cafe. It is one of the coolest cafes in Edmonton. Today I had a meeting with my boss Mary at Leva; and, the usually aloof staff, was surprisingly friendly and talkative. I took the owners card, sat by the window with my tea and waited for Mary to arrive.

I looked down and thought "Damn! This would make a great sixteen".

Quote of the Day

"Success seems to be connected with action. Successful men keep moving. They make mistakes, but they don't quit."

Conrad Hilton

365/ fifteen

This is last night’s dinner of, tough as nails, steak and sweet potatoes with a cranberry balsamic jus. I had it for breakfast despite the steaks, bricklike, texture.

Next time, I’ll marinate.

Quote of the Day

"I know the price of success: dedication, hard work and an unremitting devotion to the things you want to see happen."

Frank Lloyd Wright

Hematuria

Hematuria- Blood in urine

I have always been fairly laid back about my health, I know that I am young and time is still on my side. My partying lately, however, has made me wonder “what the hell am I doing to my insides”. Regardless I still do party, but I am slowly changing my ways- see here.

Despite my newfound attempts to love my body, inside and out, I saw red in my urine yesterday evening; I thought to myself “its fine, it’ll go away” and I moved on. This morning, however, it was still there. Now I will tell you, for months, years even, I’ve woken up with a side ache, that goes away after a stretch and some eats, so I have never worried (too much). But, today, there was a side ache AND red urine. Cue the panic.

I texted my mother “there is blood in my pee…I should book a docs appt ASAP right? She frighteningly replies “Call Dr. Stockburger right away and GET IN THERE”…yes in cap locks. I called my doctor and they are STILL off for the holiday season; I mean, come on, it’s January 19th.

I began to freak out, tears welling up, THE WORKS. So many things were running through my head, I started to feel nostalgic for the future I was about to miss, because I was dying of cancer. It was ludicrous. So my mother comes to her senses and sends me another text “call the health link before you go to emergency”. Wise words.

I spoke to a lovely nurse on the phone, whose ability to calm my nerves trumps her medical expertise; we went through a list of questions, as long as the entrance exam to Harvard. This is the cliff notes version:

Are you in severe pain? No
Any trauma to your insides? Say WHAT??
Have you been kicked or punched in the stomach or back? Nothing that I didn’t like!…she didn’t laugh
Exercising to the point of exhaustion? Well, funny you ask! I did bike 25 miles yesterday in Spin class
What have you eaten in the past 24 hours? Hmmm, I did ingest a dinner sized plate of beets last night after my 25 miles.

BINGO, she stops me right there. Apparently a young woman, of 24, in great health and in no pain whatsoever, isn’t dying of a cancer, which has reared its ugly head in the form of crimson pee. No, it’s my gluttony which has manifested itself in a dinner sized plate of beets. Beets are known to cause red pee, and the color should subside within the day, she says; but if it doesn’t, then there could be cause for concern.

I am still going to my doctor, just because. I might talk to them about a therapist referral; as I think I might have developed hypochondriac tendencies.

365/ fourteen

I am fully aware that this pink sky is an indicator of pollution run amok. But, that doesn't mean I can't think that it is absolutely beautiful.

365/ thirteen

Who doesn't love a sing-along??

Confession Monday

I don’t go to church. I used to go to church almost 4 days a week; my grandfather was a minister and my grandmother was the dutiful minister’s wife, and I was the cute, if not rambunctious, minister’s granddaughter. Every weekend my young mother would drop me off to their home on Saturday afternoon and proceed to go out with her friends on Saturday night. I wouldn’t see her until dinner time on Sunday. I am happy she did that, now; but, when I was younger I hated it.

Every Sunday, my grandmother would wake me at an ungodly hour, braid my hair, feed me breakfast and then we would proceed to drive all over Edmonton to pick up the less fortunate members of the congregation, in my grandfathers station wagon, before the service at 9 am; and, this was just Sunday. I digress, I used to be a terror all week, talking back, biting other kids; and, then I would repent on Sunday, as I sat through hours of church. Make no mistake, I was also trouble at church, I once in the middle of a sermon got a smack from my grandmother, in front of everyone, and then I was expected to go back to listening, ah the glory of church. I felt that sitting there for hours on a Sunday morning was repentance enough; although I am sure I had no idea what "repent" actually stood for. I did, however, know that it meant I could be bad and then it would all just go away in the eyes of god.


Now I NEVER go to church, organized religion isn’t my thing. For various reasons, which are too many to list. However, I love the idea of getting a week of bad things off my chest. That isn’t to say that all last week I was bad, but you know I wasn’t that good. So I bring you Confession Mondays. I invite you to comment and leave a confession of your own. No one will know it is you, they will only know that mine is coming from me. I promise it will feel good.

Without further ado…my confession

On Friday night, I promised myself that I was going to take it easy on the party and work out this weekend. I didn’t. I got home at 8:30 am on Saturday morning, drunk as a fucking skunk (thank the lord my mother wasn’t home). I didn’t shower or leave the house until, well, until I leave the house today. Do I feel bad, kind of; but, now I feel better. Confessions are good.

That wasn’t so bad…now it’s your turn.

Quote of the Day~ In honor of Martin Luther King Jr. Day

"I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear. "

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Fondue

I feel like every weekend (or post weekend) post starts off with “I was damaged or I could barely see I was so hung-over”; and, although I hate to be redundant, redundancy reigns. I had planned to write about this yesterday, but my friends and I had a fondue party on Friday evening; and, us being us, we got out of control.

Things started rather innocently, we decided to have a fondue party, and stay low-key; famous last words. My responsibility was the cheese, which cost me $27.00. I bought 2 bottles of wine and waited excitedly for my friends to pick me up and take me to the party. Upon our arrival at the party I noticed that everyone had brought minimum 2 bottles of booze. I knew right then and there that trouble was brewing; the fun at the moment kind of trouble, that makes me hate myself for the whole next day.

My cheese fondue was a bust; the cheese separated from the wine and left this blobby curdle-y mess. It was delicious cheese but as a fondue, it was a failure. My friend Katie, however, was responsible for the triumph of the evening; she made this amazingly delicious bulgogi beef that merited a round of applause, which is exactly what we gave her.

As much fun a fondue can be, with its potluck style assembly and hands on approach to cooking and eating, I realize why they fell out of favor; it’s a lot of standing around and waiting for the smallest piece of meat to cook, it takes forever to feel full. My friend Sarah said the line of the night; she looks at everyone and says very matter of factly “so we should all have 2 sticks”. She was right; it requires a minimum of 2 sticks to even make it worth it. I ate before I got there, anticipating this little conundrum, but most people didn’t and it was starting to get hardcore. People started to question whose stick was whose, we began making fondue kebabs to make the wait worthwhile and even the suggestion that we fire up a skillet and screw the fondue was brought forth.

Once we started to get our fondue stride, the oil was running low; and we had nothing but canola oil left. They say that canola oil is no good to use, due to the nasty smell it gives of when heated. We decided to try anyways; turns out “they” know what they are talking about. The house started to reek, so we put the kibosh of that. We then decided to send out some troops to go and locate some grape seed oil. FAIL, as it was 11:30 and nothing was open. We are fondue novices and this was our trial run; next time we will be more than ready. At this point with no oil, crappy cheese and bottles upon bottle of wine, we decided it was time to begin drinking the copious amounts of alcohol; if we couldn’t eat, we were going to drink. That when things get blurry and extremely ridiculous; and this is a post about fondue, not about twentysomethings being extremely excessive, so I will spare you.

Long story, somewhat short, despite many hiccups, fondue was fun. I hope we do it again soon.

Quote of the Day

“One of our greatest gifts is our intuition. It is a sixth sense we all have –
we just need to learn to tap into and trust it.”

Donna Karan

Sticky

I am still going to spinning and loving it; for the most part.


All last week, every instructor that I had, had something going for them, if they had a slightly gnawing personality, they at least had some banging music; or if the music was somewhat lacking, they were super nice and inspiring. I was on an instructor roll; that is until Tuesday. I meant to recount this story, Wednesday but some bad shit happened, that merited some respect; so I kept it to myself. But lightning never strikes twice and when it does the story must be told.


On Tuesday I strayed out of my normal radius and went to a spin class in north Edmonton, with Christopher and Suzy. It started well, we went in, adjusted our bikes and the older, Billy Blanks-esque, instructor walked in. He seemed like he would be somewhat intense, but nothing I couldn’t personally handle. Well, I don’t think they have a name for the intensity level of this man.


Where do I begin; he had the worst music I have ever heard, and that is saying a lot. I am rather lenient when it comes to music in aerobic classes, I understand that it needs be a certain level of intensity in order to get people moving; but, his was a mix of terrible techno, the kind you would hear in a warehouse on the outskirts of Toronto, pure rave, but not the fun kind, the kind that induces seizures; and, that horrid techno was mixed with this heavy rock-like dance, I wouldn't even know how to describe it, except as bad.


Now I would let the music slide, if he had some sort of redeeming personality trait I could discern, he didn’t. He hoots along to the music, barking, howling, whistling; at several points, on the beat, he would yell “tick, tock, tick, tock, SPINNNNN”. And he would refer to the resistance on the bike as “stick”, which is fine. But he would say “sticky” over and over and over again; “ride, stickyyyyy, ride”. When a man is dripping sweat, breathing heaving, and saying “sticky” then preceeds to lick the dripping sweat from his lip, I can only think of one thing. I couldn’t focus, not because I am in any way attracted to him, but I couldn’t help picturing him, mounting some woman, and just giving it to her saying “take it bitch, it’s stickyyy”; which IS more than I can handle.


And as if the music and the fucking connotations weren’t enough, he calls people out. My friend Chris was having multiple leg cramps, so I was leaning over, quietly advising him that maybe he should go walk on the treadmill and just cool it, I must have missed the instructors instruction to turn up the resistance, at which point he yells, not an inside yell, but outside yells at me “HEY, I’M WATCHING YOU!” Now I am not the type of student who responds well to that sort of drill sergeant leadership, I prefer to be inspired rather than frightened into peddling. This membership costs me $44.00 a month; I will peddle as fast or as slow as I want for fuck sakes.


After this dreadful class, I vow to never take a spin class with this man again, I really don’t want anything to get in the way of my new found love of exercise. But, lo and behold, yesterday I walk into the class and who is there but Mean Billy Blanks. I actually said out loud “FUCK”; but, I was there, so I had to take the damn class. This time he was a little better, he only said sticky once, there was a song that I could tolerate and I had a spot dead in the back, where he couldn’t see me; not bad at all. Except he has some sort of fan club, because there was heckler, oh yes a heckler. This woman, who would continually “hoot”, “oh yeah” and call the instructor out. She kept calling him a chicken for what reason, I have no idea. I thought that Mean Billy was too much to handle, but this bitch was riding my last nerve by the end. I mean, this isn’t a comedy club, this is an exercise class, heckle somewhere else. And as if she couldn’t be any more undesirable, she brought her phone to the class and answers a call during it. Granted she stepped out to take it, but come on, it's an hour, we can all detach for one hour.



I am hoping this is last run in I have with this man and his fan.


Other than that, I love my spin!

365/ twelve

For anyone who knows me, this picture will have meaning. You see, I locked this bike up August 1st, 2009. I was moving and had no room for it, so I left it. It cost me $60 on Kijiji; so my attitude was "go with god bicycle, may you be ridden". I hadn't been back since.

I, and all my friends, we're pretty confident that Ye Ol' Sprinter, was long gone; but, 3 weeks ago, I was in the neighb and decided to have a look, I thought crazier things have happened. And holy shit, there she is, lcoked up! I expected the tires to be flat, and the bike to be downtrodden from the weather; but, no, the wheels were fine and the paint looked brand new. I could have riden it home that day.

Today I went back to take this photo. But, I'm leaving her there for the moment, I still have no space; and, I don't ride bikes outside in the Winter.

365/ eleven

I realize that I completely forgot to put this up yesterday; time has been getting away from me.

This picture is of my friend and trusted designer Semi; doing some header designs for my blogs.

They are almost ready and I cannot wait!

Quote of the Day

It is very strange that the years teach us patience - that the shorter our time, the greater our capacity for waiting.

Elizabeth Taylor (1932 - )

Patience

I feel like over the past few days, time has gotten away from me. For the first time, really ever, I feel like there just isn’t enough time in a day. I caught myself saying “where did the time go” on a number of occasions... It is January 2010, it’s the future; back in the day when people spoke of this scary thing off in the distance called “the future”, they were talking about today. Human beings couldn’t wait for the future to get here and lo and behold, here we are. Damn it I want a hovercraft, because that is what I was promised. I digress, time is flying, and as I said before it is already January 13, I feel like I just toasted to the New Year and it’s already the middle of the month. It’s incredible.


With that being said, I have grown very tired of the things that I want to happen, NOW, taking their sweet ass time. You may know them as the two M’s, money and man. I have bitched at length over the money issue, I am sure to your pleasure, as the situation reached the point of hilarity; but, the man thing I have been rather mum about. The money situation is looking way up, better fiscal choices are helping the matter quite nicely; the man thing, however, is taking much longer than I would care for it to. A snail’s pace if you will. Patience has never been a virtue that I possess; as I am an only child. I have had to wait for no one, so waiting really isn’t my strong suit.


I keep getting told “be patient” or “things happen in time” and the best one of all “if it is meant to be, it will be”, which are all very legitimate, hell, I have even uttered those words to someone; but, now I realize how useless it is. This time on the other end of that sage advice, is me, a spoiled brat, who wants what she wants, RIGHT NOW. So I really “hear” none of it. I never, ever, thought I would be THAT girl moaning about a man, but yesterday it dawned on me that I am she! I have caught myself rambling on to all my friends about this, said, man, repeating myself incessantly; being that FUCKING girl. I am doing my best to keep my brain occupied; I will admit I am not doing a very good job.


So even though time is flying and we are living in the future; when it comes to thing one thing that I really want, well, I wish it would just hurry the fuck up.

Perspective

I had one of those days yesterday. My car got stuck, again, TWICE; I was absolutely exhausted from hours of work; and, to boot, I went to a spin class with one of the worst instructors with the worst music I have ever heard. He was mean and a far less fit version of Billy Blanks. I had plans to go into great detail about my day, inciting great laughter I’m sure; but, nature had other plans.

In light of yesterday’s horrid earthquake in Haiti, it would seem ludicrous for me to moan and groan, at length about my day, when children are orphaned and families are homeless and this in a country that is already crippled by poverty. In a country of nearly nine million people, The Red Cross estimated that three million are going to be affected. 3 MILLION…

Looking at pictures and videos on all the morning news feed saddens me and I feel like I must do something, whatever I can. I have no money and I am sure that most of you don’t either, but as the privileged read: healthy and able, we must all be compelled to help. Any aid will go a long way in helping this country overwhelmed by catastrophe. Chris Sacca’s site has many ways in which we can help; some for as little as $5.oo. And if I can swing five bucks anyone can.

Today I am going to reflect about all the wonderful things that I have in my life, a warm bed, a car, food in my fridge, my health, my family and I am going to be grateful. I suggest that others do the same.

My heart goes out to Haiti.

Quote of the Day

Love only grows by sharing. You can only have more for yourself by giving it away to others.

Brian Tracy

Catch Up

This last week I was playing catch up at my ad sales job and catch up with bills; the shitty kind of catch up that makes me want to hole away, miraculously win the lottery and forget about life. But, yesterday I got to catch up the fun way.

It has been almost 9 months since I graduated and yesterday I attended the inaugural “NAIT Meet up” dinner, with all my classmates from school. It was great seeing everyone, talking about the good old days and finding out what people are up to. Some people are deeply entrenched in the monotony of hotel cookery, while others are getting the full on Jamie Oliver sensory experience, some aren't doing anything related to the field of cooking; and, just 1 is sleeping with her boss.

Since my high school graduation, one of my biggest fears is to attend my reunion (high school or college) fat, unsuccessful and subsequently broke; and, yes, I am fully aware of how vain that sounds. However, yesterday among all my old educational cohorts, I felt quite proud of myself. That isn’t to say that they aren’t achieving things in their own lives; but, I held my head high, being able to say, I started a catering company with my best friend AND that we are doing very well.

I mean, I was among the worst students when it came to truancy. I believed, and still (sort of) do, that since I was paying, I could customize my schedule; I viewed the attendance guidelines as just that, a guideline. So I am sure people assumed that once school wrapped that I would attack my career with the type of lackadaisical dedication with which I applied to my attendance. So, needless to say, I feel great about where I have taken myself, in the short amount of time since I have been launched into the real world.

Of course, that isn’t to say that I am not broke, we all know very well that I am and kveching my face off half the time about it; but, at least I am doing it! The" IT” that is, of forging ahead and creating the life that I see for myself; and, loving off my, 3 or 4 times a week, Spin classes, which is taking care of the fat part.


With that being said, Chris and I were up until 3 am last night and up again to start at 8 am this morning, catching up on work and putting together an order. Yesterdays late hour and today’s early morning combined with my excessive weekend, have left me very exhausted.

Now it is time to catch up on my sleep.

365/ ten

A bottle of wine, my good school friend Dan, and I shared. It cost $56.00; and, NO, I didn't pay. It was Dan’s treat, as he is getting a bona fide "Jamie Oliver experience" at his new restaurant job and he was dying to show me what he had learned. It was delicious, not solely because of its grape varietal and developed aromas; mostly because it was free!

Quote of the Day

"You already have every characteristic necessary for success if you recognize, claim, develop and use them."

Zig Ziglar

365/ nine

Winter is beautiful. Although, I am very close to being "over" the whole idea of winter, I am still able to appreciate its beauty.

Stuck

This weekend was a very fun, yet extremely draining series of days. As promised I was useless from Saturday to Sunday night. I managed to sleep away the day on Saturday, only to wake up, ready myself and repeat the party process all over again. The weather all weekend was absolutely beautiful; we’re talking plus 5, minus 1, kind of beautiful, but I wouldn’t have known, as I was sleeping till 2 and reacquainting myself with the living room sofa. Last night, however, I went to Christopher’s to do a little bit of work and a lot of television watching.

Now I have had my parking problems at Chris’ place, but yesterday the perfect spot was available; right out front of the entrance. Due to the recent heat wave, the melting snow was little worrisome, but I like to think that I can handle anything the roads and the weather throw at me…alone with my trusty hatchback.

As midnight was striking I knew it was time to leave; and, the fact that I could barely keep my eyes open was also a dead giveaway. So as I am leaving Chris’ building, I walk by 2 rather unsavory ladies, hags if you will. Now I only describe them as hags, because they fit the bill; haggard, smelling of alcohol and a “rode hard and put away wet” sort of appearance. As I get into my car and begin to try and get out of the spot, I knew that I had a problem.

After about 5 minutes of futile attempts to get my car unstuck, nothing. I call Chris and get him to come down and try to push me out. Things weren’t going that well when he was pushing either. So as if on some sort of hag radar, the 2 (rather nice, yet) haggard ladies come rushing over to help Chris. They are also having some problems, the problem being, I’m still fucking stuck. A luxury sedan drives past and they pull over and get out to help. At this point I can’t help but laugh, here I am on a Sunday night, my brain is killing me from a weekend abuse and I am rocking my ass off, while 2 possible prostitutes, my gay best friend and an Ed hardy wearing, luxury sedan driving man and his woman , attempt to get me unstuck. Finally the woman yells to me “turn you wheels straight hun”, despite the fact that they have no clue how dress themselves RE: Ed Hardy, they were rather adept at getting my car unstuck; because, the wheel turn was the magic touch and I was out in a flash. We all rejoiced in the street; our Haggard friend cheers’ their booze filled ginger ale bottles, Ed Hardy and his lady gave a “woohoo” and Chris and I looked at each other like “we definitely have to talk about this tomorrow, wink”, and I went on my way.

This Sunday scene, although is a very amusing story, is also a metaphor for life; when you get stuck, sometimes you need help from others to help get moving; no matter what appearances might seem, their help could be exactly what is needeed. I know that seems a little cheesy but I am looking for meaning in everything these days.

Quote of the Day

"He who believes is strong; he who doubts is weak. Strong convictions precede great actions."

J. F. Clarke

It's Ugly Head

As expected, the weekend reared its ugly head. Last night was fun and also extremely out of control; which is why I am writing this at 6:17pm, when I have to be out of the house in 45 minutes. I have yet to shower, and I just recently woke up for the day (yes the night was that ridiculous).

This post is a short one. But, I will elaborate on the weekend’s antics on Monday. As I am sure that tomorrow will be the same situation as today.

365/ eight

Christopher's Martha Stewart book collection; note, there are WAY more where these came from.

Quote of the Day

"Dreams are extremely important. You can’t do it unless you imagine it."

George Lucas

The Weekend

Today I have nothing to write about; and, I must say, it’s kind of nice. The last few days have been rather eventful. With tallying up how much I owe the city of Edmonton, who I am sure is singlehandedly funding the development of the city through my renegade parking; to my little scare with the police. Needless to say, today I am very happy to report, well, nothing.

I know I am only a week into this whole, write everyday thing, but I am feeling great about it. My daily life has made writing everyday rather easy; never a dull moment. I feel like this challenge is keeping me present in my daily life too; I notice the minutia of life and take note. Some of this minutia, is absolutely hilarious and some is frustrating but nonetheless, it is my life and I am stopping to smell the roses and, in some cases, they smell like shit; but, that’s life.

As with 90% of the world that vows to “do it”, whatever “it” happens to be, in the New Year, I am fully aware that the urge to quit will certainly present itself. I am no fool; and, I’m ready for it. Because not only have I made these intentions known to myself, but also to anyone who stumbles upon this humble sounding board. If I fail, I’ll look like a moron and a flake, and I am no flake (Marilyn).

My first obstacle is about to rear its ugly head, the obstacle also known as “The Weekend”. In the past the weekend has derailed my attempts at weekend yoga, weekend diets, hell, even weekend thinking; and today is Friday. I have to dj tonight and tomorrow night, and as much as I love to do it, my weekend antics (read: drinking to excess) renders my resolve to “do” useless from Saturday morning to Sunday night. So although I promise posts this weekend, don’t be surprised if you are scratching your head wondering “what the fuck is this girl talking about” or if there is just one, very long run on sentence; punctuation and grammar are not for the faint of heart or the hung over. But, I will do my best to keep it focused and legible.

Wow, for having nothing to say, I managed to say quite a lot.

365/ seven

These 2 four legged gems are the family dogs, Fox and Ginger. Fox is the spry looking one on the left and Ginger is the other. Fox thinks the camera is food, so he always pulls off a great shot; he has focus. Ginger on the other hand is incredibly frightened of the mysterious black square thingy (her words, obviously); so this is the best we could do.

Quote of the Day

"Your wealth can only grow to the extent that you do!"

T. Harv Eker

365/ six

I am very rarely up in time to see the beautiful pink hue of the morning. Today, surprisingly, I awoke before the alarm and saw this. For a second I thought, I might try and wake up for this more often.

Subpoena

Have I got a story for you, a true story so indicative of how unpredictable, if not humorous, my life can be.

So, yesterday, I am out and about carrying out my daily duties, getting coffee, dropping magazine off to potential clients, meeting with Christopher etc. And I look at my phone and there is a BBM message from my step father. Now, when there is a message from stepfather it’s usually a simple request of whether I can let the dogs out at lunch; lightweight fare at best. But, yesterday’s message read “The police are looking for you, call me”. I froze for about 5 minutes racking my brain as to why they could possibly be looking for me and thinking where I could run and how much money I had to survive on the lam. After 2 minutes of wordlessness, I utter to myself, “oh my god, the tickets, I am going to jail”.

I call my stepdad and the conversation goes:

Me: “Dean, I’m going to be honest with you, I have tickets, lots of them; but, I am planning to pay them very soon”.
Step Pops: “easy B, I don’t know what this is about, but they have to serve you some papers”.
Me: “can they lie to lure you down there and then arrest you?”
Step Pops: “well I wouldn’t go down there, because they can book you and put you in jail on the spot. So I would get them to come to your house so it is on your terms. The most I could see you spending in jail is one or two days.”

ONE OR TWO DAYS!?!?!

He tells me he will call the lady back and see what he can find out.

Turns out (thank fucking god), I was a witness to an accident, god knows when, and I have been subpoenaed to court to testify. Thing is I have no idea when this was; which makes me feel like I still could potentially be getting set up. If it is in fact the truth, I have no idea what I am going to say. Whose side am I on? Do I get some sort of compensation?

My step father agreed to go down and pick up the documents for me, to relieve my stress and if need be, give me a head start on the police; but, alas they wouldn’t release the documents to him, they have some sort of strict rule where only the person subpoenaed can receive the documents; dicks. So today I am headed to 5-0 HQ, to get all the information and necessary documents, so I can study what the hell went on. But, to be honest I am quite nervous about going to the police station, because, well, the tickets.

I really hope that they settle this mess, whatever this mess happens to be, before the court date. Any type of law enforcement edifice makes me very nervous.



Note: I would have posted a picture of the documents, but I think that may be illegal; and, I am already on thin ice.

Quote of the Day

"Minds are like parachutes - they only function when open."

Thomas Dewar

Spin Revisited

So as promised, I went to another spin class; and, I think I am in love! I love to spin. It funny, I stayed away from classes because I a) didn’t want to look like an idiot and b) well, I didn’t want to look like an idiot. Also every other group type of exercise I have done in the last 3 years makes me cringe at the thought. Bikram yoga made me want to pass out and I almost did; I was also with someone who actually did. Running jostles my brain and my insides, leaving me with a screaming headache and the urge to vomit. Swimming, now I love swimming, and I will most certainly swim when the weather is appropriate; but, it is freezing outside and with my hair (extreme curl re: nappy), it just isn’t happening. With spinning, I leave exhilarated, not exhausted and my hair stays dry.

So I was already falling hard for spinning and today’s instructor threw me head over heels. His music was out of this world amazing, as far as exercise classes go. In most classes, we are forced to endure the shittiest techno with those ridiculous 90’s dance vocals. But not David, at the Glenore World Health Club location, oh no Malcolm played, Shakira, MIA, Lady Gaga and Coldplay; I mean, yes there was some horrid 90’s dance vocals but overall he gets a passing grade. Good music is the key; it felt like the class was 20 minutes, because I was lost in the music.

The only downside is the seat, that damn seat. My crotch is killing me. I want to go back tomorrow but I think my crotch needs a day break to let the, bike seat, callus form. Which I am sure is WAY too much information but I think it is valuable information to have.

Spin

Wine. OH, I love wine so much. So much so, that I had 4 glasses the other night. My best friend and business partner Christopher had this delicious white wine and although I typically dislike white wine, I, personally, find it a little too crisp for my liking; this wine was smooth and light, with just enough quench. I couldn’t just have 1 glass; and, I didn’t.

So yesterday, I kept it real; I enjoyed some homemade stew, had a deliciously healthy salad and went to a spinning class. Yes, me, in a spinning class. I spun my way to hell and hopefully a tighter ass. I thought I was going to get rocked, like “I think I might puke, OMG here it comes”; but, I did really well. Don’t get me wrong, it was hard; halfway through I wanted to shove the instructors microphone up her ass, but I finished. And in all honesty, today my legs feel like I was just in a street fight, my arms are inexplicably sore and my inner thighs feel like I had a really hot night, sans the hot, just the pain; but, all in all, I feel good, considering I haven’t been to a gym in 8 months. Albeit last year, I ran; but, upon further review I don’t think I will run again, the feeling like death thing grew less and less attractive. Other than that, the occurrence of exercise has been rather infrequent. I was going to the gym a lot while I was still in school, for fear of gaining the culinary 30 (the freshman 15 doubles when you eat butter every single day) but then summer happened; and we all know that summer means party. But, I suppose in my life, so does fall and winter.

So after my triumphant return to the active world, I have decided that I am going to go back, today in fact. I really liked it; and, I didn’t leave with a headache or crying. I am confident that after a few months of this, my ass is going to be rock hard and ready to tap!

So ultimately spinning is a winner.

365/ five

Truth be told, I took this ages ago; but, it is so honest and so true, I had to share it.

Love is wonderful; if not completely blinding.

Quote of the Day

"Opportunity…often it comes in the form of misfortune, or temporary defeat."

Napoleon Hill

Tickets

I am the ticket queen. Wherever I go, I seem to get a ticket. Albeit, I tend to eschew any type of parking guideline and park my car wherever I want; I seem to always walk up to the vehicle, I can barely afford, to find a ticket.

Yesterday, I got what seemed like my millionth ticket. This ticket of all tickets had me perplexed, because I have parked in the same loading zone for the past 2 months scot free and yesterday was the day the buck stopped. I walk out into the dark, frigid night to see a dangling flap of white “ticket paper” and my heart sank, for this is a ticket in a long line of tickets. All year I was relatively relaxed about the whole thing, confident when registration time was upon me that I would be “all good”; but, it is almost time for me to register my humble little jalopy and as I tally the total, my heart begins to beat quite a bit faster.

There is the $150 fine and the four $50 fines looming; I take full responsibility for the $150, as no, able bodies person, should park in a handicap stall, but the $50 fines, I take very little responsibility for. Allow me to explain, I went to a school (NAIT) with almost 2000 students and there are almost, but not even, 500 parking spots; leaving the other nearly 1500 poor saps, to fend for themselves in street parking and daring mall parking…and the mall is NOT kidding around, they will tow you and not even blink an eye. I will admit that some of those tickets are due to my negligence and my inability to play by the rules but some are straight up the schools fault.

Seeing as I am still broke, I haven’t the faintest idea how I am to afford to register my little machine. I am again thinking, which I am beginning to think is a part of the problem…thinking. What if I hadn’t quit that nursing home cooking job, which paid me a generous $15/hr? Would I be in a constant financial bind? Thinking about that job sends cringes down my spine, being there, trapped in a kitchen for 8 hours, and I would even leave an hour early every day, for my sanity. Had I stayed at that job I would most certainly be very close to debt free and I would not be living at home with my (wonderful) mother.

The decisions of 2009 are still coming back to bite me in the ass. It is only the beginning of 2010, but 2009 is still haunting me with its poor decision making and stacks of bill and parking tickets. It’s funny because 2008 was plagued with speeding ticket and as 2009 was dawning, I vowed that my speeding ticket days were gone; I should have been more specific. I am not really a praying woman, but churches are beginning to look a whole lot better as I think I might need a miracle any day now.

I have a lot of clothes kicking around, maybe I should sell those or maybe I should sell something else (wink). I am obviously just kidding, but I definitely see how people get to that train of thought.

I’m just saying.

update: tickets officially total $450.oo...ouch

365/ four

The first dinner draft of 2010!

Quote of the day

"Empty pockets never held anyone back. Only empty heads and empty hearts can do that."

Norman Vincent Peale

365/ three

I love Starbucks and the street I live on is beautifully treelined, so this is the best I could come up with. What can I say, I was hurting for a picture before the light died.

Make it Work

I lately have found myself lying awake in bed at night, thinking about life. What do I want to do with my life? How do I get there? And of course, MONEY, how do I make money doing it? I realize that this, what I do here, is what I want to do; but, this is new and this girl’s got bills, bills, bills; and, not the catchy Destiny’s Child tune kind of bill, real ones with scary collectors. Over the past few weeks (or months) I have been doing lots and lots of thinking, which I have gone into great detail and I am ready to put all this talk to work.


Currently I sell ads for a magazine, and due to a past disclosure, I let the cat out of the bag that I was a touch disenchanted with the job. That little incident, got me a serious talking to and opened my eyes; so this holiday season I decided that I need to make this little job work for me. I mean, I have it good, the magazine job allows me to have ample time to write and work on content for this blog and my other project, while still allotting enough time to get out there and hustle some ads; it just boils down to me doing it. I have already moaned about my dislike for rejection and the amount of times I have been rejected, it sucks, but , I am ready to grow a huge, dangling pair of balls and GO FUCKING GET ‘EM! I wouldn’t say that I am going to be some sort of ad sales machine but I am going to TRY; and, I suppose that is the only thing that really matters.

So to quote one of the coolest people of the 2oth century:

“They always say time changes things, but YOU actually have to change them yourself.”
Andy Warhol

365/ two

Even though Edmonton is bitterly cold, the sun is always shining. At least we can be grateful for that.

Book

I want to write a book, which is something I have stated many times before. The book I wanted to write was a cookbook and although I am slowly building an online recipe diary of my own that I am very proud of, the book that I think I NEED to write is about something that I know a great deal about…Jobs.


I must admit, I am a bit of a job whore; I have had 27, yes 27 jobs, in the 8 years I have been in the work force. I tend to job glamorize; as a chubby teen, I got a job as a weight management counselor at Herbal Magic, thinking that being around weight loss would help me drop some pounds. It didn’t. I got a job as a show home hostess, with the aspiration to get into real estate, the bottom fell way out of that read: economic crisis. I worked at Booster Juice, twice, the second time I left for my lunch break and did not return. I even worked as a shoe sales girl, but touching people’s feet and running my ass for shoes, lost its glamour after day 2. And that is just scratching the surface.


So although I know about food and I am greatly impassioned by it, I think it is absolutely hilarious and a bit necessary for me to go back and retell how this job whore came to be. Obviously I know that I must have some deep seeded entitlement issues; and, I am comfortable saying that, but there has got to be more to it. And I think that forcing myself to go back and think about it, the “more to it” will reveal itself; and, it will be a howl for anyone who reads it. Because let’s be honest 27 jobs is laughable; and, making people laugh has always been my strong suit.


So I am starting this book today; hopefully I will finish it in the year 2010, before I amass anymore failed employment.

Quote of the Day

" Enjoy where you are, on the way to where you're going."

Joyce Meyer

The Reckoning

2009 is over and 2010 is here, finally. After bidding a fond and very festive farewell, to the year that was 2009, in the form of a party that kept me up to an ungodly hour; today I am ready to start getting shit done. In keeping with my promise to myself, I have decided to challenge myself and up the ante.

Here's what I have cooking up!

1) In order to really develop my writing skills, I have decided that every single day, for the whole month of January, I will write a new post. No matter how banal or useless, I will post once a day. I think it is imperative that I write every single day, only good can come of it.

2) Project365. I came across this, and it sounded absolutely brilliant! Take a photo a day for the whole year. I am the girl who takes enough pictures but they rarely see the light of day. I either never get the film developed or just forget I even took the photos and they linger, forgotten, on my memory stick. So this year I am going to take a picture a day and share it here with you. Most of them will be food pictures but lately I am seeing the beauty of my city, all around me, so lots of that will pop up here too. And, again, some of these pictures will be absolutely useless and sometimes rushed; not to be negative, I just happen to know myself, so I am just being real.

3) I realize that I have some seriously lofty aspirations for this year, and inspiration is key, so every day I am going to find a quote that speaks to me and live that day with the chosen quote in mind. It's simple, every morning when I wake up, I will find an inspirational quote and recite it to myself all day; I will also post it here, because we could all use a little inspiration.

So let's get this baby going!

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.
Henry David Thoreau

Fitting, don't you think?!